


Rumor Has It...

by bexacaust



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bitter Breakup, Gen, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 12:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16681513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: He is half your ageBut I’m guessing that’s the reason that you strayed…





	Rumor Has It...

He remembered it like it was yesterday-

A mistake in its truest form, wrapped up in arms he had no business being in when the door creaked open to show a smile he promised something  so…  so important to.

He hadn’t even had the grace to notice the smile crack apart until it was already too late.

Too-bright optics that were wide and confused, a slack mouth like ventilations were suddenly far too complicated. A bottle of what Ratchet knew was his favorite, meticulously picked out by a normally shy mech who spoke quietly and smiled soft.

“Wait, I can ex-”

But it was too late, the door closed…. And Pharma chuckled, nuzzling under Ratchet’s chin with a huff.

“Ratchet, forget about him- I’m here now; and isn’t that all you really need?”

And now, years later- he was back. Ratchet wanted to be hateful, he wanted to be angry…

But it was increasingly difficult to focus on old anger when he crossed his damn legs like that. Ratchet tried valiantly to pull his optics away from the way Perceptor sipped from a crystalline cocktail glass; a hand accustomed to both science and artillery caressing the clear material more than holding it.

And that’s when he noticed it.

Drift, passing by and partially masked by the crowd, taking Perceptor’s free hand and kissing the knuckles gently- enough to make the scientist smirk in a menthol-cool manner. The swordsmech chuckled before disappearing; Rodimus  seeming to follow along and winking at the scientist before leaning down to quickly whisper something into Percy’s audial.

A  something that made the scientist raise his eyebrows in quiet interest as the Captain slipped away.

Ratchet felt his hands tighten on his pint glass.

Brainstorm dropped into a seat next to Perceptor, prompting an almost soft  smile as he clicked a yellow mask off- holding it like a southern belle’s fan as he  stole a brazen kiss and leapt up with a laugh at Perceptor’s pouting frown.

With a salacious wiggle of wings the self-proclaimed ship’s genius vanished towards the door of the bar. Magnus‘s steps followed him, heavy and foreboding and as the Enforcer passed…

He reached out, gave the sniper’s unadorned shoulder a gentle squeeze; Ratchet couldn’t tell if it was in solidarity or something else, but it made the green embers flare in his spirit.

Cyclonus and Tailgate were next in this enviable line of suitors; Tailgate giggling as Cyclonus murmured something with a smirk on his skeletal face. Perceptor answered, quiet and collected as always and prompted a high giggle from the minibot- a blush under a bright blue visor.

Whirl clattered forth after the odd couple, a tinny laugh accompanying a sharp yelp and scold from the scientist as his AFT was PINCHED and-

The sound of glass shattering was sharp and unexpected; as was the sudden cold drenching Ratchet’s hand. No one but the bartender seemed to notice-

The bartender, and the sniper himself. With a grin as venomous as it was gracious, he raised his glass; pinky out in pretentious mockery before the sniper finished his drink and stood from the table he perched at.

With a sway to his step Ratchet wanted so badly to hate, he took his leave. Ratchet watched, convinced his optics burned green when Drift met the sniper at the door and slid a white arm around Perceptor’s too-trim waist to pull him close.

The swordsmech looked over the scientist’s shoulder, grinned and shrugged before steering Percy out the doors of the bar.

Ratchet felt like steam should be rising from his shoulders as he fumed in jealous and regretful silence.


End file.
